Indisposition
by IshiIchiMari
Summary: Dizziness. Nausea. Vomiting. Heart failure. Such things should be well known to those working in the medical industry. Though, there are those infections which are unknown to doctors – the very things that they indeed, fear the most. Inflicted with a sudden illness, incurable and unknown – there are only so many options for Ryuken in his current state.


**Title**: Indisposition  
**Chapter one**: You're persistent  
**Summary**: Dizziness. Nausea. Vomiting. Heart failure. Such things should be well known to those working in the medical industry. Though, there are those infections which are unknown to doctors – the very things that they indeed, fear the most. Inflicted with a sudden illness, incurable and unknown – there are only so many options for Ryuken in his current state. Accept what help that can be provided, or be forced to take drastic measures. Though, those drastic measures only come in one shape, and a certain size.

That being his five foot and seven inch tall son. In other words… To call upon his offspring, or face it alone.

**A/N**: This has been long awaited. Enough said. **Expect slow updates. **Also, how ironic is it that I start this and then the latest Bleach chapters **(spoilers) **contain a younger, presumably teenage Ryuken? Really, I'm so happy I'm beyond words.

**Dedications**: Old man, Angelique (my current role-play father on tumblr) for both her and her muse; as well as Bambu (Sydney) whom I told I would post this. And this has been posted on the birthday of the _wonderful _Ishida Ryuken. (I'm sorry for making you sick on your birthday!) **Happy birthday to Ryuken!**  
**  
Pairing**: _None_. This is purely a family based fic, no intended incest – though who knows if it might be implied later on. (I'll do my best to keep the relationship strictly between father and son, considering the theme of this story.) The higher rating is for content which will be in later chapters, not _sexual._

**Disclaimer**: Bleach and all its entirety belongs to Tite Kubo. Unfortunately, that is not me.

-X-

A male stands in the middle of the room, his posture upright and his body tall. Though he only measures a mere five foot, ten inches (which is surprisingly short for a full-grown man) his intimidating aura that surrounds him brings a feeling of superiority – which makes those around him all the more worried for his current state of health.

To be honest, despite the fact that he prides himself for accomplishing his doctorate skills – the ones which got him this far in life in the first place; instead of concerning himself with his own health and well-being, he's more annoyed at the fact that _this – _this incurable _thing _is beyond his control. That this isn't some simple **thing** which can be fixed with a surgery, nor is it some**thing** which one can cure periodically with medication and help. This _thing _which he has goes by no name known to mankind, for it's undiscovered up till now; which is unfortunate, considering he was the one to catch it.

Pressing his lips together and glancing towards his left, he spots the concerned face of the third floor's lead nurse. Eyebrows creasing, his features becoming stern – it's then that she winces noticeably and averts her gaze.

What he's been given here is not concern—not wariness for the doctor which just so happens to own this hospital.

It's pity.

They're looking down at him as if they're worried, when in reality – they are not. It's not as if he's any different from the patients who enter and leave the hospital on a daily basis, and he knows that; or at least he does now. Though he can't help but feel the bubbling rage form from within him at having not one thing, but multiple that he cannot control.

It's irritating.

Glancing elsewhere and squaring his shoulders, he can see the slow parting of lips as one of the nurses musters up the courage to speak from the corner of his eye. However, as a hand of a nearby doctor clamps down on her shoulder – she's quickly silenced by her own cowardice as she glances down toward the ground.

Typical.

"You're dismissed." He then voices, his lips moving so fluidly that by the time those in the room focus to gaze upon him; it's as if he's never moved. As if his lips had never parted, as if he were nothing more than a still sculpture built within the very expansion of the room.

There is of course, hesitation; the doctors being unsure whether or not they should leave the director in his current state of mind. Seeing as, had he been anyone else—grief, worry and most importantly _**fear **_would be filling their insides; due to the fact that not only what they had was unknown and incurable – but perhaps deadly as well.

However that did not affect the director. In fact, he was surprisingly calm. Other than the small amount of anger forming due to this being something he couldn't control – he was fine. More than fine. Though he supposed such foolish amateurs would not be able to comprehend that.

"I said you are dismissed." Repeating his previous words was never something he liked to do; though it seems as though that knowledge was placed into his tone of voice – seeing as it was then that the bystanders were able to comprehend his words and soon enough, began to split on their way. Some leaving immediately out of fear, whereas others giving more cautious looks around the room before, eventually, parting ways as well. He supposed he didn't give them enough credit; even the more experience doctors would have cowered away out of fear.

Watching as the last remnants of those whom had been next to him left the room, it was then and only then did Celeste coloured optics lower their gaze; eventually sliding shut. Such a strong façade, however easy – would eventually let up soon. Despite withholding the urges and putting up a front – it would be within a short matter of time that he would, eventually, have to let go. Not because he's too weak, per say – but because it's inevitable.

Reaching up to cover his mouth as soon as the quiet vibration of his cough began to echo throughout the room; white brows furrowed upon the elder Ishida's visage as his free hand tightened at his side; bundling into a fist.

Surely he'd last longer than this…

-X-

Something felt _off; _that much, Uryu knew.

Despite having progressed fairly normal throughout the day – with only one interruption from a hollow, surprisingly enough – he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

Had he completed all his assigned work from the previous day? Yes, in fact – he had handed in multiple things early, as well as on time.

Did he forget to bring something from home before leaving for class? No, everything that he needed was ritually packed before-hand; making sure to never forget a single item for each passing day.

Then… What was it?

Pressing his lips together and furrowing his brows, it seemed almost trivial to be worrying about something which he was uncertain of. However, that thought simply made him wonder all the more – the nagging sensation which had previously formed from a dull ache now becoming an increasingly annoying pound against the back of his skull. Almost as if his mind knew something which he did not, and were trying to tell him so.

He only wished he could understand.

Letting out a quiet breath and closing his eyes, it's then that he feels the vibrating buzz signalling an alert from within his jacket pocket. Jolting upright and snapping his eyes open, his gaze immediately flickers to the teacher writing on the board – and then to the class, to see if anyone had noticed.

Thankfully, they haven't; or if anyone has, they're showing him enough courtesy not to let the rest of the class know.

Clenching his jaw and reaching into his pocket, the device is quickly grasped within a tight hold as he pushes back his seat and tenses uncontrollably. Perhaps that's what this was about, he mused.

Normally, his phone would be placed on silent – not on vibrate or anything of the sort. And even then, during class hours it was _always _shut off – due to the fact that there were never any urgencies which would require him leaving it on during learning sessions. However, it seems as though he's had a momentary lapse of memory; and had forgotten to turn it off before entering the classroom this morning. It's hardly surprising that he couldn't shake the uncomfortable sensation – even if it was only for a matter as simple as this.

_I suppose this should be taken care of, _he muses; pushing out his chair all the more and clenching his fist.

"Washroom." He then voices aloud, standing from his seat and exiting the room. He barely registers the quiet 'Uryu—' as the teacher speaks his name, before the door then closes behind him whilst he turns a corner. Surely, she can forgive him.

Pulling out his hand and leaning back against the wall, Ishida reaches down quietly and hooks his finger beneath the flap of the phone. Flicking the device upwards and lifting the screen, just as he's about to press the button which would turn the device off – the source of the call flashes blindingly against his screen; causing him to hesitate for a moment as he reads over the words.

_Karakura Hospital_

Why on earth would they be calling?

Feeling his brows knit together once more, Ishida's lips thin instinctively as his shoulders begin to lower. Only once had he received a call in the past, and that was when Ryuken had asked – or more so, demanded – that he 'check in' for one of those _yearly _check-ups. Trying to recall the last time he had done so, he counted back the months. February, January, December, November… No, it hadn't been a year, to his recollection of memory – therefore the hospital had no reason to call. Feeling his suspicions rise and that uncomfortable sensation begin to fill him once more, his teeth ground together as he shook his head.

_This is stupid._

Turning off the phone and flicking it shut, he pushes himself off the wall and makes his way back to class.

Surely if it's important, Ryuken could drag himself down here. It's not as though he agreed to meet up with the other, whenever he pleases. In fact, if Ryuken wanted his attention so badly – he could have used his own phone; hiding behind the alias of the hospital would, in no way, weaken Uryu's resolve in ignoring the other.

Certainly, Ryuken knew better than that.

Pulling open the door and entering the classroom once more, Ishida bowed respectively before taking his seat. Grasping his chair and pulling it closer, it was only natural then that he began to drown himself in his work. However, even as he did so – he couldn't help but wonder…

With the source of his uncertainty found and brought to light; why does he still feel as though something is missing… Or really, that something isn't right.

-X-

_**You have twenty-six missed calls, three missed messages. One new text.**_

This had Ishida worried.

Unusually so and uncertain at the same time – but worried nonetheless.

Not even minutes before, Uryu had allowed himself a quick glance at his cell phone in the small amount of time which he and the others were given a break (for lunch, to state any specifics) not only because he was curious, but because that nagging sensation had yet to cease. However, when he flipped over his phone and viewed not one more, nor two, not even _three _missed calls from the hospital – but twenty six; that was when he had begun to unhinge. Obviously, there were bigger issues than the matter at hand.

Ryuken never called him this much – not in the past, and most certainly not in the present; so what brought this on now? Clearly, it was urgent – yet at the same time he couldn't help but hesitate, simply because this was _Ryuken _he was talking about. Nothing yet everything at the same time were urgent to the elder Ishida, but only when he wanted things to go his way. Ryuken was the typical doctor, meaning he was a workaholic who did nothing but eat (when necessary) sleep (again, when necessary) and do his job. Such important matters such as _family _were disregarded; deemed unimportant and trivial.

So what could possibly be this important that he'd get a call now?

Pressing his fingertips against the buttons on his phone, Ishida scrolled down momentarily before finding the missed text. Viewing the foreign, unfamiliar number as it flashed on his screen – his brows knit together in an angular motion; signalling his frustration. However, more curious than not and finding his uncertainty uncomfortable – he clicked the button carelessly and waited for the message to load.

_Ishida Uryu, you may not remember me – but we met the last time you had visited the hospital. It's nurse Asami from the third floor, and there's something I need to… confide in you, I suppose. Your father—the director, he's fallen ill._

_It's been progressing for a couple of days now, though he refuses to stop working, and… I'm worried. Many of the other nurses and doctors don't seem to care, but whether they like him or not – he is our benefactor, our boss. And… as worse as it's getting, and as horrible as it is because we don't know what he has – I'm afraid for his safety. Just this morning when we had a meeting to address the issue, he waved it off and dismissed the lot of us. However, shortly after leaving I heard a thud and returned to find the director unconscious and—I don't mean to worry you, but you're the only one I could think of. You are his son after all._

_I didn't want to worry you, but… Please… I'm not sure what I should do. I've left you a message as well with more information, but I'm sure you're a busy student as you are. Although… I'm afraid you're the only person the director has as well, the only one he might listen to. I did my best to try and send him home for the day, but all he did was return to his office with an unspoken threat. He's working now, and doing his best – but I'm sure there are others aside from me who hear his coughing and other things as well._

_Please contact me as soon as you can, or come to the hospital when you're free. If… If you need my help I'm willing to do what I can to see to it that the director returns home each night safely. After all, he should be taking a break as it is._

_Thank you. – Asami_

"….This is…."

"What's that?"

Jumping in alarm upon hearing the voice, Ishida's head whipped around as a curious brow rose upon the face which rest so close to his own. Spotting the teenager who knelt slightly above him, Ishida's eyes narrowed once more and his eyebrows creased as he glared at the orange haired boy whilst reaching up to adjust his glasses. "It's nothing, Kurosaki. And it's none of your business."

Brow arching higher upon the teenager's forehead, a skeptical look graced the elder teen's features as he shuffled a bit closer and leaned down in the slightest. "Didn't seem like nothing; especially with how you reacted. I thought I saw your dads name in there somewhere, too – so what's all that about?"

"I told you, it's none of your business."

"Then it's not exactly 'nothing' now is it?"

Rolling his eyes and pushing himself off the ground – Ishida placed his hand atop the edge of the roof's curb in order to haul himself onto his feet. Pocketing his phone and brushing off his hands on the front of his trousers, he then straightened himself in front of the other before making his way to brush passed him. "Even if it isn't_ nothing_, it's still none of your business – Kurosaki. Therefore I needn't explain it to the likes of you."

Practically hearing the growl emit from the ex-Shinigami's lips, Ishida closed his eyes whilst making his way towards the door. Ichigo's interruption was brought as a minor distraction, however – even with Ichigo shuffling to follow behind him; he couldn't completely shake the idea of what he had just read from the back of his mind.

"Whatever. It's not like it's important anyways, right?"

Blinking as Ichigo spoke and turning his head to glance over his shoulder, it was in seeing the slightly curious yet somehow concerned expression on the other's features that caused him to falter. Pressing his lips together and glancing away, Ishida pressed the flat of his hand to the door which would lead them to the staircase before murmuring in reply.

"Right."

-X-

Stepping into the quiet corridors, soft footsteps could be heard echoing throughout the hospital's inner barriers. Making his way towards the receptionist's desk – to be specific, the one which resides on the third floor – cerulean orbs flickered upwards; the glare of familiar spectacles dimming beneath the florescent lights which rest above.

"Hello, Miss Asami-San..?" Speaking quietly as he stepped up to the desk, he watched as a somewhat recognizable form popped up from behind one of the many individual stalls. It took her a moment to upright herself, dusting off her hands and adjusting her glasses before he viewed the slight squint to her eyes – watching as both alarm and surprise registered on her features; but above all, there was a hint of relief. "I believe you had texted me earlier..?" Unsure of how to progress things, for the fact that she clearly recognized him made him feel a tinge of guilt for not remembering her – it was when she quickly nodded and scampered to adjust a few papers before making her way quickly towards the teen did he step back a bit – giving her room to approach him, should she exit from behind the desk.

"Y-Yes! I did! Oh thank goodness, I thought you wouldn't come…"

Pressing his lips together and resisting the urge to frown, Ishida quietly mustered up the nerve to reach up for the female – lifting the small flap which would allow her to exit the circular-shaped row of desks which formed the hospital's core. Nodding respectively to her murmurs of thanks, he followed swiftly – yet surely behind her as she began to walk off in another direction.

Though it had been a while since he last ventured down this particular hallway, he was almost certain as to where it would lead. Not only because of the sheer reason behind why he was here in the first place, but because of the familiar spiritual pressure that lingered within. Even this late in the evening, Ryuken would still be here – that thought alone, really shouldn't have surprised the archer. (Though, he supposed, on a larger scale – it hadn't.) Reading over the text as he had before bringing himself to visit the hospital, he realized there were certain things that he had missed the first time reading it. Key things such as; 'we don't know what he has' – 'he refuses to leave work' and another important one, if not the most important – 'unconscious'. There was not one moment in his life which he could recall Ryuken being that ill, and, as much as the whole idea of them not being aware of what he has being important, that was nothing in comparison to the fact that it was actually _affecting _the older male. He had never known Ryuken to be so… Weak.

Ishida only wished there wasn't even a small amount of hesitation harboured within his body. No, not for helping Ryuken – but the complete opposite, in fact. He wished there wasn't a sliver of curiosity within him, which resulted in this: him coming to the hospital, to start something which would possibly change many things for the rest of his life. It was such a big decision, even if it didn't seem like such – and he was sure he'd prefer otherwise. But it was probably too late for that now.

Though, then again—perhaps Ryuken is fine. Suppose he refuses to acknowledge help from anyone, of any sort – Uryu will simply have to live with that. It's not as if he particularly _cares _for Ryuken; it would simply be an issue, something that would become an annoyance to him, should Ryuken pass away so suddenly. Who would he go to, had he lose his powers once more? Who would run the hospital afterwards, and which employees would be without a job? That was the only reason, he mused. Such things… However disbelieving, were what Ishida told himself. Those were the only reasons he was coming here; nothing else.

He wasn't doing this for Ryuken; and he never would have.

"A-And I don't know what to do, so…"

Blinking, snapped from his inner thoughts and slightly confused – Ishida quickly glanced down at the female. Just noticing that they had long since halted their movements towards a particular destination now, he felt ashamed for having been drowned in his own mind to miss the things she were speaking to him. Though, judging by the last sentence which had flowed from her lips, it was most likely an elaboration on her text as well as the messages she had left for him; hopefully, nothing more.

"I see…" Glancing towards his right and allowing his eyes to scan the familiar hallway, Ishida's gaze soon came to rest upon the small labelling on the door which they had stopped in front of. Reading the name and designation beneath it, he then turned to the female with the smallest of smiles – hoping to reassure her, despite the fact he truly had no clue as to what he were about to be doing.

"I can take it from here, miss. You don't need to worry."

Watching as her eyes – however uncertain glanced up to him, he felt the smallest amount of pressure being drilled into him as she then glanced to the door. A part of him wondered how someone so caring could tolerate working for Ryuken – let alone care for the man this much; though he supposed Ryuken most likely reacted different to staff in comparison to his own flesh in blood; as stupid as that might seem.

"A-Alright…"

Receiving a curt nod and a fraction of a smile, the amount of worry which was hidden beneath her exterior wasn't hard for him to see. However, he didn't say any more than what had already been said – and, as she made her way down the hallway and back towards the desk; he kept silent. It was only when her fleeting reiatsu dimmed in presence, and she had long since turned down the end of the hallway did the smallest of breaths escape him through parted lips.

Turning to the door and pressing his palm to the handle, any and all thoughts were brushed aside in favour of opening the door. Had he thought about what he was doing before-hand, he most likely would have left out of being unsure of the unknown. It wasn't that he was _scared _however, or anything of the sort; he just… Didn't see any reason to help someone who was reluctant to receive it in the first place.

That, and the fact that this was Ryuken. That name alone should say more than words ever could.

Stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, it took Ishida a moment to spot the male from where he stood at the edge of the room.

Seeing as it was late in the evening, the curtains on the far side of the room were drawn back a mere fraction – however, each individual light remained off which caused his eyes to squint in attempts to take in his surroundings. Although – as he stepped further into the room and glanced towards the spiritual pressure's obvious source, it was then that he spotted the individual – resting quietly atop the couch; so very uncharacteristic compared to the image Uryu had of Ryuken. He was sure it had been at least ten years since he had seen the man sleep.

"You're stubborn, you know?" Reaching up to remove his bag and allowing it to slide onto the floor, manicured brows then began to furrow. Creasing deeply upon the middle of his forehead, thin lips pressed together as well as he then stepped towards the other – stopping once he hit the edge of the desk. "Making even your subordinates worry about you; surely you have more pride than that?"

"My idea of pride and your idea of the word rest upon complete opposite ends of the scale, Uryu."

Rolling his eyes at the mumbled retort, a soft scoff escaped the teen as he then shook his head. "I should have known." Folding his arms across his torso, Ishida allowed his eyes to slide shut. Leaning his waist on the side of the desk, he ignored the sudden response as Ryuken continued to speak.

He should have known the man wouldn't have slept so easily. (Even if he did work practically twenty three hours of each day or more.) Ryuken practically lived and breathed for work; and that was most likely an _under _exaggeration.

"That goes to show how utterly foolish you are. Your presence is not needed; therefore you're free to go."

"Hmm, well it seems as though you've gained enough respect around here—_surprisingly enough _– for one of your nurses to worry enough to call me."

"You're changing the subject."

"And you're avoiding it."

Listening to the quiet, somewhat irritable sigh as it escaped the elder's lips; Ishida lifted his lids as he glanced towards the other. Feeling his expression become that of disinterest, the slight knit to his brows was unavoidable as he watched the older begin to sit up. Though Ryuken had yet to open his eyes and gaze in his direction, he could tell that even without the motion – he was guarding Uryu's reactions. Despite the slight amount of anger he felt bubble beneath the surface, he could only watch as Ryuken reached up to adjust his glasses; the pink lines from where they had pressed into his skin now brought to Uryu's vision as he does so.

"I already took care of that, so there's no issue to avoid."

Rolling his eyes once more and shaking his head, Ishida's arms tightened momentarily as he looked away. "Yes, what a nice way to treat your subordinates Ryuken. Heaven forbid you show compassion towards one of those few, rare people which are worried about you, simply because your _ego _won't allow you to receive help."

Watching as a shrug was motioned out of the corner of his eye, Uryu found his jaw clenching as his teeth ground together. Apparently, even when 'ill' Ryuken's persona wasn't about to change. How someone could be so _ignorant _and _rude _in that position was beyond Uryu's understanding. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if Ryuken would welcome death with open arms – simply because he refused to be acknowledged as someone who _ever _needed assistance even once in his life.

_Really. _Letting out a breath and closing his eyes, Ishida reached up to adjust his glasses once more. Pressing the frames up the bridge of his nose, he both quickly and quietly pushed himself off of the desk.

"Regardless," He started, his eyes opening once more as he continued to speak. "I'm not about to let you die, simply because you're acting like a child. Don't get me wrong—I'm only doing this because it would be completely troublesome if you were to 'kick the bucket' so to speak, and leave me to clean up afterwards." Approaching the other and standing before him, pale hands placed themselves onto his hips as he raised an inquisitive brow. "That, and should I lost my powers once more—not that I would—it's only you who can help me recover them, hm?"

"How very considerate of you." Was the sarcastic response, "Though I assure you, such things are completely irrelevant."

Ignoring the reply and taking one final step closer, Uryu reaches towards his discarded bag and hefts it onto his shoulder. "Whatever. Come then, Ryuken." Speaking simply and stepping in front of the elder, his brows threaten to twitch in irritation at how the other seems to simply sit there – unfazed; and unmoving.

"Have it your way then." Reaching forward and gliding his fingertips into the front of Ryuken's pocket, he's not sure why – to be honest, he's going this far – though he supposes any amount of anger he can gorge from the other is as good as any. And, with the slight hook of his fingers and a curl around the object; he removes the 'ever-important' pager, as well as the male's phone and places it into his own pocket before starting to walk away.

"Only when you come will you be provided with these." Stepping towards the desk and lifting the lab coat which hangs lifelessly against the back of Ryuken's chair, he too, reaches into that pocket as well and removes its inner contents.

At this, he can see the visible crease to Ryuken's brow – the thin pressure of lips as they form together. He can see through the dim amount of light, Ryuken's eyes trained on his very form – the hands at his sides slightly clenching as if he's too impatient to deal with this. Although he's never received this sort of reaction out of the elder and it's sort of unsettling – he presses such thoughts into the back of his mind in favour of telling himself that _this—_gaining a reaction out of Ryuken is better than nothing. Also, that it shows the man holds at least some amount of emotion, no matter how little. However…

Watching as Ryuken presses himself off of the couch and moves to stand upward; it's then that Ishida notices. The sheen of sweat on the back of his neck, the furrowed brows not out of irritation but of something else – and most importantly, the slight swaying to Ryuken's body as his hand stretches behind him in attempts to grasp the couch for support.

Ryuken really is… Ill.

Despite seeing the swaying motion that Ryuken portrays, Ishida does nothing. Clenching his teeth and closing his eyes, he can hear the quiet sound of a body landing against the couch cushions – as if Ryuken had fallen. Although had it been any other day, he would have enjoyed witnessing the weaknesses which Ryuken was now showing—he couldn't bring himself to revel in it and become satisfied; and because of that, he felt anger.

He really shouldn't have, and he knew this – but he blamed Ryuken for it as well. Of course he'd show weakness in the moments which Ishida could not become satisfied; such things were just 'fated' he supposed.

"Who's the foolish one now, Ryuken?" He murmurs, being careful not to press any further. However, despite using the elder's words against him in a somewhat mocking tone, his voice is quiet. And even as he mumbles this and approaches the other once more, his gaze remains averted as he does something he thought he'd never have to do.

Kneeling next to the other and lifting his arm; he ignores the hesitation which radiates from Ryuken's form and places his father's arm over his shoulder. Lifting Ryuken and bringing him to his feet, he stops for a moment to gather ground, before letting out a soft breath and closing his eyes.

"Let's go, Ryuken… I'm taking you home."

-X-

To be continued.

**Note**: To make things clear, this is focused around the time which Ichigo lost his powers. Ishida is fifteen on the verge of sixteen, before time skip; and this will most likely progress to right before the fullbring arc. So—there might be spoilers up ahead. But probably not very many, if any at all. (Seeing as I'll be making up those seventeen months in between, where Ichigo was powerless. This is an alternate universe regardless, however. So it may not progress as the manga does.)


End file.
